


Define 'AWOL'

by ToukoTai



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen, M/M, Tucker as a freelancer AU, Washington as ODST, almost tuckington
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 22:45:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2287181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToukoTai/pseuds/ToukoTai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Washington?"<br/>"Did you know that one of my terms for joining Freelancer was I get that state tag? I thought it would be funny. Because that’s what I called him. His parents thought it would be cute if his middle name was Washington.” He twists the word around in his mouth. “God knows why. I thought it fit him better then his actual name, so that’s what I called him.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> written as a response to [this post](http://pilot479.tumblr.com/post/78155682408/imagine-a-freelancer-tucker-au-or-irl-au-with)
> 
> Tucker is Agent Washington and Washington is still called Washington, but wound up in ODST instead of freelancer.

What sticks out in Tucker’s mind the most, is that after the initial shock and anger and fear had worn off, even weeks later in the dark recesses of space, with the team arranged around him. Infiltrating covie base after covie base, always looking, always moving. Sooner or later he had to find the right one, he had to. What stays with him, is that the day had been so goddamn ordinary. There was literally no warning to be had, none.

Before he got the alert, the most exciting part of his day was going to be antagonizing South during evening training. He even remembers what he was doing when he got the news. He was in the locker room with York, North and Maine. Joking around as usual. He doesn’t quite recall what he was saying, but the sudden red icon had popped up on his HUD and stopped him mid-sentence.

He read the notification. Re-read it, re-re-read it and was out of the locker room in a flash. North and York’s voices chasing him down the hall of the MoI as he charged rather blindly around corners until he reached his destination, The Director’s Office.

Being part of Project Freelancer meant having access to things a normal soldier didn’t or shouldn’t. Things like say, a database that connected to the UNSC’s database and more specifically, troop deployments and updates. And if someone just so happened to know someone, who knew someone, who wrote a discreet script to filter out key words in the ever changing flood of information from that database and send those reports with the flagged terms to someone’s inbox. Well, that was all just part of being good special ops, right?

And if someone just so happened to have a very good friend in active duty with the UNSC and happened to know their friend’s serial number and squad assignment. And just so happened to have that number and name flagged in the aforementioned discreet script. Well, that was just being a good friend right?

The downside to being part of Project Freelancer, Tucker quickly found out, was no leave time. North was the one who found him first, after his giant, massive, knock down drag out fight with the Director. He was in the training room, burning through drone after drone, energy sword humming, flashing through the air and then stopped. His arm caught by North. Tucker snarled through his helmet. Tugged at his arm, but North didn’t let go.

"Calm down." And that just set Tucker off, because how was he supposed to calm down? But North was bigger then he was and North was stronger too and North was expecting this. Even as Tucker shifted to attack the other freelancer was already sweeping his feet out from under him and pinning him to the mat. "Now, are you going to calm down and tell us what’s going on? Or are you just going to keep burning through energy like this?" Tucker struggles weakly but he knows he’s already lost, so he gives up, flops limply on the mat. He dimly registers that Maine and CT entered the training room at some point. Both are watching him, but CT is the one to break the silence.

"Washington?"

"Did you know that one of my terms for joining Freelancer was I get that state tag?" Tucker asks instead. North cautiously lets him up, but Tucker just remains sprawled on the floor, staring up at the buzzing florescent lights. CT comes closer, Maine just behind her.

"No." She says carefully, like one wrong word and he’ll flip out. He’s not sure if he has it in him anymore.

"I thought it would be funny. Because that’s what I called him. His parents thought it would be cute if his middle name was Washington.” He twists the word around in his mouth. “God knows why. I thought it fit him better then his actual name, so that’s what I called him.”

He can feel the intense curiosity in the air. He’d said a little bit about his life before Freelancer, they all had. But none of them had really gone into details. Tucker had certainly never shared any information about his friends or family. He suspected that his fellow agents didn’t have very many of those, himself included and everyone wanted to play their cards close. Now Tucker’s ace was out of sight, that changed things.

"I have a friend, the best fucking friend in the world." He says instead of a million other things he could say about this kid. His fellow freelancers aren’t saying a word, aren’t even moving. "I came here and he wound up ODST. He’s been doing good, I keep an eye on him." Tucker can feel the weight of his own words crashing down on him. "But his squad did a hell-jump, into the middle of an ambush. Half his squad is KIA, the other half is MIA." Tucker squeezes his eyes shut and hisses out: "He’s MIA. And I…I need to know.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And the last I saw of him, he was trying to knife me.” At Carolina’s raised eyebrow, Tucker shrugged. “We had a weird relationship, I think he was trying to teach me better reflexes. I know he wanted my knife work to improve.”

Carolina heard the story from North and then from CT. Agent Washington had a friend, a friend who was taken or dead. And until this was resolved, it would continue to disrupt his performance in the field and otherwise. She decided to go to the source and see what could be done. A ping to the ship computer’s showed that Washington was in the team locker room, so that’s where she headed.

Tucker didn’t look up as the door slid open or as bright turquoise armor came into his peripheral view. He was turning his helmet over and over in his hands, watching the play of light on the sleek lines, thinking of blond hair, grey eyes and an exasperated voice. The hell Tucker? You could at least TRY.

“Washington.” Her voice brings him back to the present.

“Yeah, Carolina?” She took off her helmet and shook out her hair. This was a talk that had to be handled face to face.

“I think you know why I’m here.” Tucker put down his helmet and met her sharp green eyes.

“I’ve known him since we were kids,” His voice is steady, his fingers clench into fists on his thighs. “We enlisted together. We went through basic together. I was a slacker, he worked hard. He kept pushing me to work hard. So I did, to make him happy. Then I got the sword key thing and selected for…this, he trained and transferred to ODST. The 117th. And the last I saw of him, he was trying to knife me.” At Carolina’s raised eyebrow, Tucker shrugged. “We had a weird relationship, I think he was trying to teach me better reflexes. I know he wanted my knife work to improve.” Tucker looked down at the floor, hands tight shaking fists, blond hair, grey eyes and the sound of surprised laughter echoed through his head.

“He was always looking after me. Since we were idiot kids. I just want to know Carolina, I need to know. I can’t stand this. If he’s dead, then,” He swallowed hard. “he’s dead. But if he’s alive. If there’s even a chance that he’s alive.” Tucker looked back up at Carolina, and she almost took a step back from the raw desperate need on his face. “I need to know.” She considers Tucker, gaze boring into his. Neither flinched or broke the connection.

“Did you…?” She leaves the question hanging and then connects some dots. “He was more than a friend.” She says this, because she knows. She was young when her mother went off to war and never came back, but she was old enough to remember seeing this same look on her father. Tucker shakes his head.

“I never got the chance. I was so damn stupid.” Carolina doesn’t comment.

“If he is alive?” She asked, even though she already knew what the answer would be. “What would you do?” Tucker thinks back to basic, thinks back to highschool, thinks back to a short kid with wide eyes, thinks back to a skinny kid with baggy clothes and freckles, thinks of a soldier with blond hair, dog tags and more responsibilities than he ever needed.

“Save him, and then never let him out of my damn sight.” Carolina nods, once.

“Okay.”

“So you’re going AWOL? That’s your big plan?” Tucker nodded, running a check through his field kit. “That’s stupidest plan I ever fucking heard. Do you even know where you’re going? Please tell me you’re not just going to wander out, into an intergalactic war zone, with no fucking clue.” Tucker didn’t bother replying. “Oh my god, you actually are. You are all that fucking dumb. How did you even get Carolina to agree to this, she’s supposed to be the smart one!” Tucker felt a bit of grim satisfaction.

“She’s the one who came up with the plan.” He said, checking his ammo. “And we have a destination; we’re going to the 117th’s last drop point.”

“That’s behind enemy lines! You’re all going to fucking die.” He felt a lot of remorse about that. Carolina was mobilizing the entire team. To find Wash. Someone they had never met and wouldn’t make much difference to them if he lived or died. ‘It makes a difference to you.’ North had said, when Tucker had voiced his concerns. ‘We’re supposed to be helping the war effort right? Now’s the time to get out there and see what we can do.’ was York’s response. ‘We all know you’re just going to go anyway.’ CT told him in the hallway. ‘You don’t get to have all the damn fun. Asshole.’ Tucker wasn’t sure this was going to count as ‘fun’, but he wasn’t one to argue with South.

“Take me with you.” Tucker jerked, head whipping around to stare at the console on his desk.

“What? No, no way.”

“You’re going to need all the help you can get. Take. Me. With you.”

“If I take you, the Director is going to know right afuckingway and he’ll hunt us down.”

“No he won’t.” Tucker sighed and ran a hand down his face.

“Dude, you’re the ship’s AI, I think he’s going to fucking notice when all the gravity shuts off.”

“Naaaaah, I’ll leave Beta in charge. He won’t notice a goddamn thing. He’s like obsessed with her and shit.”

“I’m asking Carolina.”

Out of all the things in Project Freelancer that both terrified and amazed him, Alpha took top spot. Alpha was a fully integrated AI program, based on the Director’s own brain and personality. ‘Like a thought clone.’ Alpha had said. Currently, he partially ran the ship’s functions. He could complete complex algorithms and run through lines of code in the blink of an eye, at the same time. He had entire databases of knowledge at his virtual fingertips. And he wasn’t supposed to interact with anyone but the Director and the Counselor.

Apparently, Alpha was more of a rebel then anyone first thought and also, glowing energy sword. Only one of its kind. Not even AI were immune to its wonder.

Tucker was rather proud of the fact that he had only moderately jumped out of his skin, when during a solo practice, a voice from out of nowhere, had told him his technique sucked and could he move a few steps to the right please, he was off center for the security camera and it was really fucking frustrating not being able to see the full arc of the sword. Strangest practice session Tucker had ever had, with the disembodied voice alternating between mocking him and giving somewhat helpful advice.

After that, Alpha had decided Tucker was his new best friend and took every opportunity that Tucker was alone to talk at him, to him, with him. It really didn’t matter to Alpha. Tucker just figured the AI was lonely. He had been worried that Alpha had been found out, when the AI had gone silent for a few days the previous week, but Alpha had come back, albeit shakier then before.

But this was the first time Alpha had mentioned a Beta, and Tucker had long ago decided that asking Alpha questions was going to lead to more headaches then he needed. So he didn’t say anything, but brought the suggestion to Carolina. Alpha would be useful, extremely so, less so though, if the Director found out before they were out of friendly space.

“If he can pull it off, do it.”

479er was less than pleased.

“I don’t believe for a goddamn second that this is a sanctioned mission.” 479er wasn’t impressed with rank. But Carolina didn’t particularly care, and she didn’t back down from 479er snarl.

“No, it’s not. Are you going to help us or not?” Behind her, Tucker was practically vibrating in place. A ball of nerves and energy, his fingers kept twitching to his sword handle. Lightly brushing it, but never actually grabbing hold. York was standing next to him on one side, shoulders almost brushing; CT was standing on his other side, arms crossed over her chest.

“Help you? Help you? I’d like to stick it to the Director just as much as the next guy, but I’d also like to keep my fucking job, probably twice as much as the next guy-“ Her tirade was cut off with a beeping from her back pocket.

“You might want to check that.” Carolina says calmly. 479er mimics her words in a high-pitched tone under her breath, as she pulls the data pad out of her pocket and unlocks the screen.

“Well look at that.” She whistles low. “It looks like there’s a mission for ‘deep space rescue squad’.” She made a show of flicking her eyes over the group. “Guess that’s you then, get on board.”

“Deep space rescue squad, really?” Tucker hissed out as he settled himself into one of the harnesses.

“Uh, don’t complain if it worked dude.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Wash! Washington! It’s me!” The ODST behind Wash, looked beat up, bedraggled and supremely confused. Wash lowered the needler, looking just as confused as his fellow POW’s. Tucker could have kissed him. Except for the firefight, and helmet in his way.

Tucker’s reunion with Washington is everything and nothing like he thought it would be. Getting to him alone is like being in the eye of a hurricane. Quiet, and calm as they rip things apart around them. They go to the original drop point, there’s nothing there. Dead bodies, ODST and Covvie alike, pieces of armor, abandoned firearms. Nothing else.

Tucker has to crouch down at the edge of the field and just breathe. He’s seen the effects of the war before, hell he’s been on fields, just like this one, after a fight. But he’d always had Wash next to him or known that he was thousands of miles away. And right now, this is the remains of Wash’s squad and he doesn’t know. Maine’s hand is a huge weight on his back, an anchor, pushing him back into place. He breathes in and then out. Carolina is standing in front of him.

“Alpha picked something up.” She says and Tucker is back on his feet.

They are close enough to for Alpha to listen to the chatter from nearest UNSC platoons. There’s a survivor that managed to make to the nearest UNSC base and off they go. The survivor is a Private Jones. And he remembers Washington. He’s also missing his right arm and his left leg under the knee.

“Always thought his name was fucking weird.” The private says, and Tucker grins inside his helmet inspite of it all.

“It’s his middle name.” Tucker says, almost breathless. “Did you see what happened to him?”

“He was right next to me.” Jones pauses to cough. “Then he wasn’t. Last I saw before that fucking energy sword, a brute was hauling him off.”

“He was taken captive? You’re sure?” Tucker leans forward, eyes intense and the ODST trooper leans back.

“Yeah, yeah.” He says shakily. “S’far as I can tell.” Tucker hugs the guy, squeezes him tight against his armor, and abruptly leaps back from the strangled cry of pain.

“Sorry, sorry.”

“I’m missing a fucking arm, guy!”

 

It takes them several weeks to find the right base. Tucker fears every minute that he’s going to be too late. They rip through covvie base after covvie base, practically turning the tide of the battle on this little backwater planet. Carolina directs them, Maine provides the muscle, Wyoming and North handle the long range sniping, whittling the enemy forces down, luring them into Florida’s traps. South and him take point with CT and York running support. And Alpha is everywhere. He jumps from agent to agent. Whoever needs him most. Sometimes it gets a little confusing, their first few forays were something of a mess. But if nothing else, being behind enemy lines requires a steep learning curve, and they’re all fast learners. They’ve really hit their stride by the time they break through the base that has Washington.

 

Florida’s planted the bombs and is out and running. Tucker and Maine are combing the lower levels. Going through room after room. Searching for anything. Carolina is covering them as South, York and CT engage the Covvie on the upper levels. North and Wyoming covering them.

Tucker turns a corner, kicks in the door of a room and comes face to face with the business end of a needler. A needler held by an ODST trooper, missing his helmet, chest armor and gauntlets. An ODST with blonde hair and grey eyes that in the darkest part of night, in the pure black of space, when everything was quiet and still, Tucker didn’t think he’d ever see again.

“Wash! Washington! It’s me!” The ODST behind Wash, looked beat up, bedraggled and supremely confused. Wash lowered the needler, looking just as confused as his fellow POW’s. Tucker could have kissed him. Except for the firefight, and helmet in his way. Then he noticed how Wash was leaning more to his right and there was a dead covvie elite on the ground. “The fuck did you do to your leg?”

“I uh, twisted my ankle.” Wash answered in a distracted tone. “Tucker?” The feeling of relief that swept through him at that, almost floored Tucker. Washington was here, alive and doing that thing where his lips thinned. Usually meant Tucker was going to get reamed out, but at this point he didn’t even care.

“Yeah! Yeah, it’s me!” He’s giddy with relief.

“The fuck are you even doing here?!” Wash bellows, his eyes narrowed.

“I’m trying to save your life asshole!” And it’s like he never went off to Project Freelancer and Wash never went into the ODST and got captured.

“You’re doing a terrible fucking job!”

“How am I doing a bad job?! We’re in the base, I have you, I have back up, I even have a goddamn pelican for an exit strategy!” Tucker crowded into Wash’s personal space. But even though his armor made him taller and bigger then Wash’s ODST armor, the other man didn’t back down, if anything it made him yell louder, jabbing a finger into the turquoise colored armor.

“I’ve mostly saved myself and _you’re going to get your stupid ass court-martialed_!”

“Oh fuck you! Tell me you wouldn’t drop everything to come get me, if I was in your place!”

“I would! I would drop fucking everything if you got captured!” Tucker threw his hands up in the air, momentarily forgetting that he was still holding his MA5. Behind him, Maine reflexively ducked.

“Then why the fuck are you yelling at me?!” Washington had opened his mouth to reply, probably by yelling, when Carolina cut through.

“Washington!” Two heads snapped toward her, one helmeted and one not.

“What?!” The response was louder and more forceful in stereo.

“Stop bitching with your boyfriend and get your ass in gear.” She jerked her head to the hallway. “Evac now or get blown sky high.” Running on adrenaline and pure reflex, Tucker couldn’t stop himself.

“That’s what she s-OW! Goddamnit Carolina!” Carolina drew her hand back to point menacingly at Tucker.

“What have I fucking told you about that? Move it!” She turned back and disappeared around the corner to the sound of gunfire and plasma bursts, Maine jogging after her. Tucker snapped his MA5 to his mag strip, grabbed Wash’s arm and slung it over his shoulder. The two hobbled out into the hallway, arguing the entire way. The other ODST POW’s pushed past Wash at the jerk of his head. He passed the needler to one of them.

“You took my goddamn name too?!” Wash snarled, as Tucker mostly dragged him along the hallway. The base shook.

“I was only borrowing it!” Tucker protested. “You can have it back when we’re out!”

“Oh my god, you two, _shut up_!” Alpha appeared in a flash of blue and white light. “Do you have any idea what it’s like _listening_ to you?”

“You aren’t even supposed to be here!” Tucker snapped. “Go back to Carolina!”

“Too bad.” Alpha says. “So _you’re_ Washington.” The avatar head moves up and down, making a show of looking the other man over. “Kinda beat to hell aren’t you?”

“Kinda _been_ to hell and back here.” Wash growled.

“Seriously Alpha? Fucking seriously? _We’re in the middle of a firefight_!” Alpha snorted.

“Wasn’t stopping you earlier. Oh, watch your six.” Wash whipped his arm up, Tucker’s pistol in hand, having it pulled from his thigh mag strip, and got the grunt sneaking up on them between the eyes. Alpha whistled. “Nice aim ya got there, Sparky.” Tucker doesn’t even blink. Wash had always been a good shot, always quick on the uptake.

“Don’t call me that.” Wash snaps as Tucker hauls him through the last hallway and out into bright sunlight, toward the waiting Pelican. The remaining ODST from Wash’s squad are already in and seated.

Tucker shoved Wash into a seat, and yanked the harness down. Maine thundered up the gangway as the pelican began to take off. Tucker looked over at Wash from his own seat next to him and found him staring back. He smiled wide enough for all his teeth to show, even if no one could see it.

“So, didja miss me?” The eyeroll Wash gave him was painful in its familiarity. Little things he forgot about the other, that he didn’t even realize he missed until he was faced with them again. “You totally did, admit it.” And then Washington broke the script.

“Only the entire time.”


End file.
